


take a look at you

by aeits



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, fyi i laugh harder at my own jokes than anyone else, idk what to classify this as
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-24
Updated: 2017-01-24
Packaged: 2018-09-19 12:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9440273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aeits/pseuds/aeits
Summary: “secondfirst impressions are everything,” oikawa smiles. “it could’ve been worse. what if you puked on him? there’d be no way to come back from that.”shigeru’s only mildly satisfied when iwaizumi does them all a favour by smacking oikawa.





	

**Author's Note:**

> nobody, ever: can i get a fic w/ yahaba embarrassing himself?  
> me: say no more

~~~~he is not staring.

a little peeking maybe. but he certainly isn’t staring. it hasn’t reached that stage quite yet.

“you’re staring,” watari says while emptying a sugar packet in his thermos. today, it’s some herbal tea that’s supposedly good for sore throats and colds and upset stomachs and whatever other aches and pains accompany the flu. because they woke up one day and discovered it isn’t summer anymore. the chill of autumn makes its presence known through coughs and sniffles

watari swirls the thermos a bit, in lieu of using one of the coffee stirrers readily available, and fixes shigeru with a look before taking one big gulp. his face shutters for a split second like a man who has realised he’s made a grave mistake a moment too late. and shigeru is tempted to ask just what the hell is in that thing because it surely can’t be good if it seems to be taking apart your stomach lining in the process.

save for the fact it has to be since watari is never sick. his concoctions are preventative measures. shigeru is about 90% sure most of them contain copious amounts of alcohol.

“it’s starting to concern me,” watari taps his finger on the table as his soul gets reacquainted with his body.

shigeru opens his mouth to make a sly comeback except he’s blanking and it would be incredibly unfair to let his best friend get a pass so easy. but give him a break, his brain is on a short leave after last night’s study session. he’s not exactly clear on what transpired or if it even qualified as a session. it’s like the little guys sitting behind the controls in his mind hit the auto-pilot and let shigeru do the rest.

 _by the way_ , he thinks to himself, _you guys are fired_.

luckily, there’s a divine power at work in the form of one terushima yuuji who gives watari a look of his own. “what’s concerning,” he pushes the thermos to the centre of the table, “is that you keep testing fate by drinking this liquid death.”

watari tilts his head. terushima sighs. shigeru blinks. somewhere in the café someone sneezes and watari raises his eyebrows. they both watch as their friend grabs his thermos and takes an even bigger gulp as if to spite them.

“talk all you want,” there’s a smug layer to watari’s voice and he smiles like he has the whole world in his hand. he probably could pull it off; he’s just that nice.

shigeru goes back to his activity of not staring, thank you very much, at the same time terushima scoots his chair back to ‘get an actual drink that’s not going to cause kidney stones’.

the subject, dubbed blondie for right now (even though he’s progressively less blond every time shigeru sees him and maybe he hasn’t had time to do a touch up), is flipping a pencil between his fingers. that in itself isn’t anything exceptional but blondie’s got that whole rugged look going for him. shigeru would bet money that he has a tattoo hiding someplace although he hasn’t figured out where.

in the back of his mind, shigeru registers that he’s seen the boy on campus. but thus far, they haven’t shared any classes that would allow shigeru time to know much about him. his side profile is something to write home about and if shigeru not stares hard enough, blondie’s sharp jawline might hurt his eyes. the eyeliner he’s used to seeing is absent; a part of shigeru misses the intense addition but the other part is glad to see the blond boy bare faced.

the frown pulling on blondie’s lips isn’t uncommon as he’s glaring at the textbook (history? math? god what does he major in?) in front of him. but it’s bordering on cute so shigeru has to draw a line and promise to stay right behind it. he will not have incriminating thoughts about some guy who he doesn’t even know for god’s sake. _ha, write ten lines of_ that _why_ _don’t you?_

unfortunately, blondie seems to get an inkling he’s being not stared at leaving shigeru to avert his gaze or be incredibly mortified. before he can lift his eyes, he’s being kicked in the shin none too gently.

biting back a yelp, shigeru directs a scowl at watari. “staring is impolite,” he huffs as though kicking one’s best friend or anybody for that matter has suddenly become socially acceptable.

“i wasn’t staring.”

watari narrows his eyes. this is the part where shigeru keeps quiet because knowing his best friend, watari’s getting geared up for a lecture. at this point, it’s possible for shigeru to repeat everything his friend is going to say. how could he not memorise his speeches when he’s been getting them for years?

“can i ask a question?” terushima blessedly interrupts upon his return, distracting watari. he’s got a steaming cup of what’s bound to be an obnoxiously complicated order. shigeru mentally sends an apology to whichever barista is behind the counter. terushima’s the person they warn you about when you start making coffee. you know, the asshole that can’t settle for a regular beverage but gets over excited about the specials.

terushima hums after taking a sip and watari’s gaze faintly goes soft before focusing. “did we really only come here to watch yahaba stare at that guy?”

“pretty much,” comes the reply. shigeru gapes because that was an unwarranted answer for an unwarranted question although he shouldn’t be surprised. it’s watari after all.

“okay, first and foremost,” shigeru is going to say this once more and then never again, he hopes he’s clear, “i do not stare at him.”

“oh, is that what we’re doing now? lying?”

watari snickers and terushima flashes a small grin. shigeru’s got to get himself other people to spend his time with as this arrangement clearly isn’t working out.

folding his arms, shigeru chances a quick look at blondie. he’s still there, very real.

“he’s horrible,” shigeru says with a pout.

he witnesses his friends share a glance. “how do you figure that?” watari questions.

shigeru scoffs because it ought to be obvious. or watari should be able to read his mind by now, they’re that close. of course, he only does it on the off chance that he may or may not embarrass shigeru more than he’ll do so on his own. like he proceeds to on this particular subject.

“no one should effortlessly look that good,” shigeru should know; he covered genetics in high school biology. “except maybe oikawa-san but like, he probably made a contract with a demon. there’s no way a guy can be born that way. leading me to the conclusion that god has it out for me.”

terushima tilts his head. watari sighs. shigeru blinks _yet again_ because how are they not getting this?

he holds his hands up placatingly. “all right, hear me out,” shigeru’s theory is solid goddammit it has to be. “he is _so_ good looking, like unbelievably so. and at first, i really thought it was the eyeliner. but it’s not, it’s the whole thing. the whole _all_ _natural_ thing. which is fucking unnerving actually. how is he so casual and and so damn laid back when he looks like that?”

watari makes a noncommittal sound but no, shigeru isn’t done please hold all questions until the end. “and i’m sitting here staring at him... shut up both of you, yeah i admit it,” terushima gives him a look that says _go on_. “so i’m staring at this guy and his blond hair and fingerless gloves, which by the way are very inefficient because what the hell is the point of gloves that don’t cover your fingers? i stare and think to myself, this is what i get for breaking my mom’s china. my sister took the blame but now god has finally come to cash in. and he does so by placing blondie in my sights when he knows, he fucking knows that i won’t do a damn thing about it.”

shigeru glances at his personal punishment from god to see the boy biting on his lip and _oh my god_ , he’s sorry the plate fucking slipped. he was seven, his hands were tiny. he lays his head on the table with a groan, “therefore, he is horrible and i am forced to sit and stare and think in a cruel repetitive cycle.”

all he hears in reply is watari drinking his poison potion. when shigeru picks his head up, along with the scattered pieces of his dignity lying across the table, terushima is squinting at him.

“you know what,” terushima finally speaks after seemingly analysing shigeru, “i see what you mean, shinji. i’m kinda embarrassed that i had to listen to that yet now i’m way more worried than i was earlier today.”

“screw you and your kidney stones coffee.”

if you ask anyone about yahaba shigeru, they’ll say something along the lines of “oh, yahaba? yeah, he’s a good guy.”

a good guy. not a great one but good. the kind that lets you borrow notes when you miss class or who insists on paying for your meal as a show of thanks. he’s the one who volunteers to be the mom friend for the night so you can have fun. overall, anyone would agree that he’s a good guy.

and really, it’s not just all talk. shigeru tries hard to be a good person of upstanding character. he tips well, grants a stranger a smile every now and then and in the not so rare case you need advice on an existential crisis, he’s your man.

he’s built his life at university revolving around being nice and pleasant and all those other synonyms. which is why he fails to understand how he’s always faced with such ridiculous circumstances. maybe it’s his own fault for picking the friends he did in his first year, but there’s no turning back.

this particular circumstance occurs at exactly 8:07pm that very night at futakuchi’s apartment. he’s one of the few second years that lives off campus meaning his apartment is slightly less crappy with enough room to fit a group of people comfortably. shigeru likes futakuchi. he’s pretty chill apart from the times he’s deliberately trying to pick a fight with everyone simultaneously.

granted, shigeru doesn’t know why he’s here at 8:07pm. earlier at 8:06pm, he’d asked the very same question aloud only to be ignored. yet one minute later, he realises of course he’s here for some bout of nonsense that will leave him questioning his choice in friends. god wouldn’t let him off the hook so soon.

shigeru blames himself for letting watari drag him here. watari who is huddled by the kitchen with terushima. they’ve been there for ten minutes although shigeru is confident in saying the appliances can’t be that captivating.

so it’s 8:07pm on a saturday with shigeru having no clue why the hell he’s here when futakuchi says to him, “i’m gonna set you up.”

there’s a laugh from the kitchen and shigeru has to look down at futakuchi because for another reason he doesn’t understand, he’s sitting on the floor in his own apartment. but shigeru has to really look at him because he can’t be serious; today’s not the day after dealing with blondie then putting forth his theory resulting in concerned yet valid stares.

futakuchi just cannot be serious.

“i’m serious!” futakuchi says like he’s been reading shigeru’s mind or maybe it’s the look on his face. “yuuji said you have a crush-”

shigeru stands abruptly, mentally adding ‘throttle terushima yuuji’ to his to do list, and turns towards the kitchen. futakuchi grips his arm in an effort to pull himself to his feet. the plan almost backfires when futakuchi tugs a bit too hard but shigeru’s had his fill of embarrassment today so he can gladly go home.

the two manage a balancing act before futakuchi stands in front of shigeru, blocking his view of the traitors who aren’t even trying to stifle their laughs.  
“listen,” shigeru sighs, “i don’t know what my ex-friend yuuji said but no thanks.”

“ _ex_ -friend?” terushima squawks at the same time futakuchi purses his lips and goes, “well to be honest, he said you went down to that café near campus to stare at some guy and i interpreted the rest.”

shigeru’s left eyelid twitches.

a stream of profanities as well as a stern talk about what’s _appropriate_ small talk come to mind when watari chooses to cut in. “futakuchi knows who he is,” watari joins them looking far too innocent. “you know, the guy you ogle repeatedly. futakuchi knows him or.. knows of him.”

futakuchi nods as if to back up watari’s claims. “yeah, kyoutani,” futakuchi muses. “he’s in my japanese literature class and lucky for you, our friends move in the same circles. he’s not much of a talker but i can probably make it work.”

shigeru cannot believe what he’s hearing. not so much the setup because futakuchi’s always coming up with a scheme to humiliate someone. it just so happens to be shigeru’s turn in the spotlight. no, what’s really important here is the new knowledge he’s acquired. he hates to admit that he wouldn’t have possibly got the boy’s name on his own but if shigeru is anything, he’s grateful.

 _kyoutani_ , and then, _i like it._

upon realising he’s been quiet for a minute too long, shigeru notices he’s now got three pairs of eyes on him. futakuchi looks determined. watari looks content. and terushima’s still looking thrown off by the ex-friend comment.

he’s probably hoping for a win when he mutters a small ‘fine’.

“what’s this i hear about shi-chan having a crush?”

he’s gonna fucking murder futakuchi.

shigeru can’t figure out what’s worse. hearing that god-awful nickname out loud or knowing the voice behind that mess of a sentence is contracted to a demon and therefore shigeru is no longer safe. he really wishes his friends would stop putting his own life in jeopardy.

by this point oikawa’s got himself draped over iwaizumi who’s at fault here for thinking he could complete an assignment anywhere, even if it is the second year lounge, without oikawa interrupting. they’ve already started to squabble so shigeru’s hoping no one registers him slowly moving away.

hanamaki perches on the edge of the couch  honestly, shigeru was looking forward to enjoying his early day  thoroughly blocking shigeru’s view of his easiest escape route. first course of action after this is to plot out his other escape routes.

“do we know who this crush is?” matsukawa leans on hanamaki’s right sounding for all the world like an involved parent. “do they have acceptable grades? we can’t have you losing focus on school work.”

shigeru wants to say that’s rich coming from the same person who tried playing table tennis with his crumpled law notes as the ball. he hasn’t perfected mouthing off to the third years just yet; he’s a good guy.

a good guy who’s constantly made to suffer since the universe enjoys laughing at his expense. because it’s unimaginable, really shigeru wouldn’t actually imagine it anything like this, that the next person to walk into the lounge is kyoutani. the same kyoutani who futakuchi promised not to talk about and who may or may not be shigeru’s theoretical crush.

not to be rude to the deities and higher powers but _really_? of all times, now seemed suitable to make shigeru squirm and burst into tiny bits and pieces that his friends will have to scrape up so his family has something to cry over? he thinks watari would write a killer speech if shigeru were to ever meet his unfortunate end in his college dorm’s lounge.

sadly, he is currently not bursting into tiny bits and pieces and forcing his dorm mates to deal with the piteous dilemma. instead, shigeru is made to watch silently as the bane of his existence walks over to the other side of the room where iwaizumi has retreated. _how do they know each other? who the hell even let him into the building?_

shigeru has to remind himself not to stare as it would be way too obvious with this many people around. he’d rather not expose his maybe crush in front of said person as well as ten outsiders. he’s kinda unsure as to how he ended up in this situation but by god he’s not going down like this.

oikawa comes over to sit on shigeru’s left and latches on like a leech. shigeru flinches at just how cold the older boy’s hands are. oikawa smiles as if he knows precisely how cold he is and how uncomfortable it is for others to have aforementioned cold individuals pressed against them. truth be told, he is only solidifying the demon contract theory.

as luck would have it, kyoutani and his fucking fingerless gloves (they deserve an entire category for themselves) decide to take a seat and prolong the suffering. the miniature people behind the controls have abandoned him again; the least they could have done is put shigeru on any other setting that isn’t ‘stare openly’. it’s like being aware that your demise is coming yet doing nothing about it as you would happily encourage being put out of your misery. most of the time, no, scratch that, _his entire life_ is spent on the very feeling.

it’s brought to shigeru’s attention that oikawa is no longer the only one smiling. apparently, hanamaki and matsukawa have joined in and the trio appear to be telepathically sending messages back and forth. frankly, whose side are they on? he thought they were his so called involved parents, attending the pta meetings and showing up at his games but it turns out they’re siding with the enemy.

oikawa clears his throat sounding ready to say something incredibly important. knowing him, it could be anything from when his next paper is due to what shirt he’s planning to wear tomorrow.

shigeru would have preferred the latter over what he actually says. “so you _do_ have a crush.” and shigeru is tempted to eat his own hand. it would be a lot less painful.

“i think it’s cute.”

“screw cute, it’s fucking adorable.”

“you know what’s funny?” shigeru surveys his seniors. “i don’t remember asking for any input yet here you all are.”

oikawa pouts while further invading shigeru’s personal space. he’s absolutely certain the other boy is trying to steal shigeru’s warmth as well as what’s left of his youth. “shi-chan, that’s pretty rude. we just want to give you relationship tips.”

raising his hand, matsukawa speaks evenly. “as one of yahaba’s legal guardians, i think it would be better to let him handle this on his own regardless of how cute it is.”

_good plan!_

“firstly, iwa-chan and i are his official college parents,” this sounds like news to shigeru but then again it’s fair seeing that he had met iwaizumi and oikawa initially. “you and makki are like, his backup parents if anything were to happen to us. so as his rightful parent, i say i wanna help.”

hanamaki arches his eyebrows and shigeru wonders when his life began the slow descent into oblivion. “correct me if i’m wrong, but didn’t you take seven years to confess?”

“irrelevant!”

so now oikawa and hanamaki are squabbling similar to eight-year-olds and matsukawa leans in to give shigeru that _i'm sorry that they're like this but please don't disown us_ smile. which says a lot because shigeru’s already used to that smile.

“matsukawa-san,” shigeru says, “you’re my new favourite.”

“i thought i was the favourite.”

they all pause to peer at iwaizumi who has finally inserted himself into the conversation. shigeru automatically looks to the spot he’s vacated and kyoutani’s _still there_ , honestly how dare he.

“what i’m hearing is that i’m _not_ the favourite?” oikawa’s affronted and if he hadn’t been hell-bent on taking shigeru’s youth and feeding it to his demon contractor then perhaps shigeru would have been more understanding. or at the very least, he'd tell hanamaki to stop laughing.

shigeru’s thinking that he might be able to excuse himself. return to his room and replay the moment that kyoutani entered the lounge and breathed the same air of his own home. all three seconds of it, preferably in slow motion with a focus on the fucking fingerless gloves and eyeliner.

he finds that he can’t do this however because iwaizumi is studying his face. shigeru isn’t sure what he's hoping to see there. iwaizumi nods after a few seconds. “futakuchi can’t keep a secret.”

correction: shigeru is going to murder futakuchi then proceed to eat both his hands.

to say it’s been hectic would be a drastic understatement. shigeru hasn’t been able to breathe without a jumble of numbers following shortly after. every time he blinks, a line graph flashes across his eyes. he wakes up bowed over his desk from nightmares where none of his ledgers are balanced. it’s quite horrifying.

(yesterday, shigeru saw shirabu near the life sciences building. he’d been considering calling in his favour because shirabu owes him for last week when he’d had no clue what to do about his macroeconomics paper, and enlisted shigeru’s help since according to a classmate, shigeru’s a master. in retrospect, shirabu was probably shitting with him as none of his friends are business majors leaving him no other options.

in the end, shirabu made it out with an acceptable grade so he bought shigeru a red velvet cupcake and said ‘i owe you’. shigeru doesn’t know the guy all that much, but he thought, _well_ _if i ask him to take my textbook and swing at my head as hard as he can, he might_ _comply_.

shigeru never discovered if shirabu might comply or not because he decided not to waste his chance when these are only midterms. he wasn’t that desperate. yet.)

nonetheless, these moments bring them closer together. because sometimes it’s 4am at the university library. there are about five cases of red bull on a side table solely devoted to caffeine. shigeru never knows who buys them or who even brings the trademark coffee pot that brews the best damn coffee in the world. it’s so good, the ceo of starbucks probably wakes up from nightmares about this one coffee pot on some old table in some damnass university library in tokyo.

shigeru’s just learnt not to question these things.

but it’s piss o’clock in the morning, tanaka and nishinoya are half-way through a poor rendition of god knows what song trying to cajole ennoshita into joining. watari has volunteered to play referee for terushima and futamata’s game of paper football. aone is calmly talking futakuchi down from mixing red bull with his black coffee because _can_ _you_ _imagine_ _how_ _annoying_ _you’d_ _be?_ somehow, kenma’s managed to curl up for a nap in all the chaos and akaashi seems to be the only person making progress.

personally, shigeru’s sold on the idea that akaashi keiji is a celestial being come to hang out with the mere mortals. therefore, he isn’t hindered by the human need to crash and fucking burn after three days of midterms. the truth that they don’t tell you in the history books is that akaashi is most likely what caused the fall of the roman empire. probably due to boredom.

his hand tremors the slightest as he listens to kinoshita go back and forth with yamamota about what is considered a _safe_ caffeine intake. shigeru snorts upon deciphering that tanaka and noya have moved on to a 2006 yui song that’s way too dramatic for 4am. he’s kinda losing his mind over this.

the third cup of coffee hasn’t set in. ennoshita’s given up on watching the foreign movie he waited last minute to review; the duet’s turning into a serenade. futakuchi has, against all better judgement, mixed red bull with his coffee. terushima’s calling foul and yamamoto’s gone quiet which is so creepy, shigeru’s gonna have even more nightmares.

and akaashi’s just. running a hand through his hair. typing away at his laptop doing whatever the fuck journalism majors are supposed to do. doing it so flawlessly, shigeru feels ashamed of not only himself but everyone in this room except one other-worldly akaashi keiji.

it’s then that god (not akaashi) chooses to strike again. shigeru should have better prepared himself seeing that it isn’t unlike god to kick him when he’s already down. it’s then, at ass o’clock that the elevator dings and shigeru gets a sinking feeling. he knows just what’s coming but that doesn’t make him any more ready to see kyoutani materialise five feet away from him.

nobody seems to notice. or they do but they’re otherwise too occupied to care or really don’t give a shit. shigeru, on the other hand, can’t help but notice. kyoutani’s got one strap of his backpack on his shoulder and a textbook that’s almost as thick as matsukawa’s law books. he’s wearing a leather jacket pulled over his sweatshirt and there’s a whole essay shigeru could write about the leather jacket-sweatshirt combo. he’ll save that for another day.

kyoutani looks slightly out of place. there’s the loud screech of a chair followed by futakuchi, the bastard, scrambling out of his seat. “kyoutani!” futakuchi exclaims as if all of the metropolitan tokyo area ought to know he is here on the third floor of the university library.

the look on kyoutani’s face is a mix of _i’d rather be dreaming about being surrounded by_ _a_ _litter of puppies_ and _death does not scare me_. shigeru is strangely familiar with both such looks. he sees kenma peeking over the table he had selected to fall asleep under. his sleepy glare is trained on futakuchi who has no idea the end is nigh.

so akaashi, like the higher power he rightfully is, with a fucking sixth sense for things that cause kenma distress, glances at futakuchi for the tiniest fraction of a second. shigeru knows right then it’s over. futakuchi is far too happy after having woken up kenma and his ever present god of journalism.

that’s the only valid explanation for what happens next.

futakuchi’s feet swerve out of alignment with the orders he’s receiving from his brain. as if he forgets where he’s going between the first step and the second. he doesn’t even try holding the edge of the table to maybe regain his footing, but resigns himself to his fate.

he falls with a thud and makes no move to get up. kyoutani frowns like futakuchi falling on his face is the biggest inconvenience he’s had to deal with. everyone seems to accept that futakuchi’s gonna lie there until the next coming of christ. in all likelihood, aone’s mentally telling the loser on the floor ‘i told you so’.

they’re all getting ready to return to their time wasting or studying because some of their demon professors have actually set midterms before 9am. highly unreasonable to assume their students want to see the faces of their professors and the tests that will temporarily shatter their hopes and dreams all before the lunch menu is put out. a bold choice in his opinion.

except shigeru starts laughing. not his soft, suppressed one, he’s full out wheeze-laughing and he’s not sure why coffee #3 decides to broadcast its effects right this moment. he’s laughing, wheezing, coughing a little because he’s laughing so damn hard and it strikes him that this is a library, it’s 4am and futakuchi is helplessly lying flat after tripping.

shigeru coughs a final time. akaashi’s looking at him weirdly. he isn’t in the mood to become the second victim tonight (this morning?). his next laugh is swallowed before it can surface.

he’s blinking, looking around. yamamato’s nodding like he knows exactly what the fuck is going on although none of them do know what the fuck is going on, like, ever. within one breath and the next, a collective flipping of pages occurs. like everyone simultaneously agreed that ‘yeah we better study else we end up doing that’. that being shigeru’s wheeze-laughing solo act.

perhaps the biggest shock of the night-morning is kyoutani pulling up a chair at the table shigeru has his handouts, life ambitions and tears strewn over. the issue with a certain slightly less blond every time shigeru sees him boy sitting right in front of him is now shigeru’s emotions are catapulting out of his chest to land on the previously mentioned table. handling handouts, life ambitions, tears and  _emotions_ is a challenge when your body is purging itself of lesser substances to make room for coffee.

kyoutani’s still wearing the ‘i wanna have puppy dreams’ look, opting to sit with the wheeze-laugher over the the loud asshole fucking lying on the floor. shigeru wonders if futakuchi has knocked himself out, thinks maybe he’s taking a page out of kenma’s book in regards to napping.

“sorry for uh, interrupting,” kyoutani grumbles.

shigeru finds himself staring not just in the _oh my god you’re so beautiful_ sort of way but in the _oh my god you’re so beautiful and you’re acknowledging me_ one as well. his laptop has the motivational powerpoint he will deny making concerning this very instance. like a typical procrastinator, shigeru never got around to finishing it.

“yeah,” shigeru says, “it’s fine.”

he shifts his handouts, life ambitions, tears, emotions so kyoutani has room, he’s not an asshole after all. he takes note that the fucking fingerless gloves are nowhere in sight. neither is the eyeliner. it’s a double whammy. shigeru is not well equipped for this.

“oh,” kyoutani holds his hand out across the table and shigeru’s brain is still stuck on no fucking fingerless gloves, “kyoutani kentarou.”

shigeru feels like that moment in the movie when the scene cuts to the main couple, everything kinda fades into the background then whoever’s behind the soundtrack adds some butterfly fluttering music. minus the fact that they’re not a couple, there’s no cheesy background music and he can easily distinguish watari leering at him or some shit. the feeling is actively _there_.

he leans forward, stretching his hand to meet kyoutani’s. talking himself up to say his name because there’s no honest to god way he can mess up. he simply forgets that god is out to get him since there are thirteen ways this can go spectacularly wrong and it does go spectacularly wrong.

shigeru sneezes.

sneezes so hard, it shakes him to his fucking core. nose hurting, throat consumed in that funny tingling thing it does; he’s sure they picked it up on the richter scale.

his face is definitely warm when he opens his eyes. kyoutani stares down at his hand then at shigeru like he cannot believe he dragged his ass across the campus, came up to the third floor of the library and sat in that chair just to be sneezed on by an almost but not complete stranger at shit o’clock in the morning.

shigeru’s sorting through how the hell he’s gonna recover from this. if he could go back in time he would have certainly asked shirabu to swing at him thus saving all of them the embarrassment they must now endure. he says sorry about ten times, but is effectively shut up by the nasty glower kyoutani sends him prior to going in search of a bathroom.

shigeru pictures himself turning into a pile of of whatever will get him out of this situation.

“flu season is a bit inconvenient, yahaba-san.”

he hopes next time akaashi lets him knock himself out.

the amusing thing about getting past midterms is this: it gives you a false sense of hope. a fool’s gold sense of hope where you anticipate the workload will never be more intense than that, promising yourself that you absolutely for sure will not let shit spiral out of control and hit the proverbial fan.

shigeru doesn’t bother telling himself he won’t cut it close to deadlines for his upcoming exams. he’s a second year student, he knows better. the cramming, panicking, breakdowns where he considers calling his parents to say he’s dropping out are bound to happen regardless.

following what shigeru is calling ‘the library incident’ (conveniently coined the shigeru sneezing fiasco by terushima), having drunk his body weight in watari’s death juice, he makes it out on the other side of minor hell week.

surviving minor hell week is a feat on its own, but shigeru also has to deal with resident soul-sucker oikawa tooru who somehow knows what happened that night-morning because as it turns out, none of shigeru’s friends know when to keep things private.

(“did you really sneeze on him? that’s gross!”

“see, this is why you can’t ever be favourite.”)

he has finally got over walking around with a figurative paper bag on his head to ignore events concerning the library incident and is currently being talked into going out to celebrate futakuchi’s birthday later.

“it’ll be fun,” futakuchi says, studying the cards in his hands.

shigeru certainly will not dispute that, futakuchi knows how to have a good time. “sure. i could use a drink, or several.” he passes a card to watari.

“we could invite a few of the guys from the other dorms,” ennoshita suggests.

“you are aware that akaashi is dating someone, right?”

“t-that’s not why i fuck you.”

terushima lets out a positively delighted laugh and watari looks at him like he’s a winter viewing of the aurora borealis. all starstruck and another word shigeru’s having trouble remembering. he’s been doing that a lot lately. the not so subtle looks, tender smiles, flushed cheeks.

“wait!” shigeru interrupts the flow of the conversation. they’ve moved on to teasing ennoshita and like, shigeru can’t blame him because they all wanted to date akaashi at some point in time. it just became blatantly clear he, along with his god-like qualities, was way out of their leagues.

nobody is picking up exactly what they’re supposed to be waiting for, but shigeru’s got their attention. he had to stop them ‘cause this is big. like, really big. it’s _the_ _café is having buy one get one free croissants plus any small coffee for ¥100 extra_ big. okay, it probably isn’t _that_ big but it’s big.

watari stares at him similar to how his old cat did whenever shigeru accidentally stepped on her tail. he believes that stare is within the same wavelength as the one kenma directs at people who aren’t that fucking orange haired ball of sunshine that try to maintain conversation for more than 11.9 seconds. shigeru doesn’t think he deserves that stare, he is _not_ an asshole. at least never on purpose.

“how come”

“don’t.”

“i wasn’t aware”

“shut the hell up!”

shigeru cackles. “i’m so holding this against you.”

terushima possibly wants to ask what it is shigeru is holding that has so much power over watari. he never gets the chance to however, or maybe he did, but in walks kyoutani ‘sneeze victim’ kentarou and shigeru honestly has to figure out who the shit keeps letting him into the building.

kyoutani pauses as if in search of something in the middle of the lounge. his eyes land on shigeru, frown poised to kill hence forcing shigeru to itch for a real paper bag. what does one say to the guy they like after sneezing very grossly on his hand?

futakuchi rises from his position on the floor  shigeru’s thesis will likely be on why futakuchi kenji enjoys being close to ground level at all times  and waves kyoutani over. “just the man i was looking for.” which is utter shit seeing that he’s been here all afternoon playing cards.

“you told onagawa to ask narita to beg me to come here,” kyoutani says as a form of greeting.

“welcome to my humble abode.”

“...you don’t live here.”

shigeru wonders if it would be polite to stare now that the two boys are standing in their semicircle of card playing. he thinks to hell with it, he’s already ruined his image so what else is there to lose. he looks heavenwards. that was a joke, it was totally a joke.

“anyways,” futakuchi says pointedly, “wanna go out tonight? i’ve recently learnt that you only have approximately two and a half friends.”

okay so if shigeru convinces watari to agree with his alibi

“did you call me over here to insult me?” kyoutani scowls.

“you’re not denying it though,” futakuchi sorta sing-songs.

kyoutani’s fists clench then he lets out a huff, rubbing at his eyes. for the first time, shigeru deems kyoutani equally as tired of futakuchi’s antics as they all are. “i’m tryna think of reasons why i talk to you.”

“sounds like a yes to me,” futakuchi grins dangerously meaning there is no good ending for any of them in this scenario.

kyoutani glares. futakuchi grins. shigeru’s life continues to steadily descend into oblivion. “fine, you fuckwit,” kyoutani agrees semi-reluctantly. “tell me where we’re going.”

well, shigeru knows where he is _not_ going tonight. he is certainly not going anywhere with a certain kyoutani ‘sneeze victim’ kentarou despite terushima telling him to ‘maybe talk to the guy for two minutes’. for the record, he’s no miracle worker, he’s no journalism god. frankly, if he were, he’d be able to string together more than mere sounds of despair every time kyoutani is brought up.

“don’t make me do this,” shigeru pleads uselessly upon opening his room door to the third years. he’s positive he only texted iwaizumi though as the old saying goes: where one goes, the other three will not mind their own business enough not to follow. or something along those lines.

“ah, shi-chan,” oikawa moves past him into the room to settle down on his bed. shigeru steps aside to give the others more space to enter. “think of this as an opportunity.”

“to make an even bigger fool of myself than i already have?”

“there’s no need to be dramatic about it.”

“no offence oikawa-san, but you’re the last person i expected to talk to me about being dramatic.”

“what’s that supposed to mean!”

iwaizumi rolls his eyes and walks over to where shigeru’s leaning against the doorway of his closet. “relax,” he says, giving shigeru what he assumes is meant to be a friendly pat on the shoulder. except, iwaizumi benches twice what shigeru weighs (on an average day) so his friendly shoulder pat almost causes shigeru to tip over and crack his skull against the edge of his dresser. not that it would be an unwelcome end to the evening. “kyoutani’s a good kid, he just isn’t very good at expressing it.”

“all right, father of the year,” hanamaki drawls. “that’s great and all but our child is freaking the fuck out.”

iwaizumi turns, unamused by that comment. “hence why i am trying to get him to stop freaking the fuck out.”

“you’re doing a poor job at it,” oikawa adds.

“i fail to see how you’re talking when you’re practically at stepparent status,” matsukawa quips.

oikawa’s on the verge of lunging. matsukawa seems to have forgotten that oikawa is basically linked to the underworld. while shigeru would normally enjoy his front row seat to this screening of real husbands of tokyo, he has places to be, people to embarrass himself in front of.

“can you guys fight over me later?” shigeru says desperately. “i am very much freaking the fuck out.”

hanamaki hums as oikawa stands to assess shigeru. “first impressions are everything.”

“i sneezed on him.”

“ _second_ first impressions are everything,” oikawa smiles. “it could’ve been worse. what if you puked on him? there’d be no way to come back from that.”

shigeru’s only mildly satisfied when iwaizumi does them all a favour by smacking oikawa.

“this is starting to get sad.”

everyone has at least done a few bad things in their life. whether it’s borrowing something you never intend to give back, keeping quiet when the cashier hands you more change than necessary or being brutally honest leading to hurt feelings. point is, the average person is not a saint (unless you’re sugawara koushi, who is quite practically an angel, though that’s a whole other discussion).

shigeru is an average person. he’s done some bad things. in fact, he is far too conscious of the bad things he’s done. alas, he is an average person who has done a great deal of bad things and he understands this. such is life. keep it moving. so on and so forth.

what shigeru cannot even begin to understand is what he could have possibly done that was bad enough to warrant kyoutani ‘all eyes on me’ kentarou flaunting his arms like they’re not a big deal.

when they’d entered the club near the south side of campus, shigeru had felt on top of things. the pre-drinking at futakuchi’s apartment was probably the best idea they had all night. despite the fact he didn’t really drink since he unsurprisingly offered to be the token friend who’d ensure no one is drunk off their ass on the curb, the atmosphere was relaxing.

their group was on the edge of being tipsy. futamata and terushima were more buzzed than they’d like to admit and even watari had a touch of colour on his cheeks. shigeru couldn’t pinpoint if it was a result of the alcohol, the cold or the recent (maybe not so recent) terushima yuuji fascination.

it wasn’t late enough for all the tables to be occupied but the place was still crowded enough to make getting actual seats difficult. which wasn’t much of an issue anyway seeing that most of them were planning on adding to the bodies on the dance floor after a couple shots.

shigeru was doing fine, he was just fucking dandy. then he proceeded to swallow his tongue once kyoutani slipped out of his jacket and went to help futakuchi and aone with the drinks.

“oh my god,” shigeru whispers now, thankful that he has a view of kyoutani and his arms and the fucking fingerless gloves he is slowly starting to appreciate.

“it’s sadder the longer i watch,” bobata agrees, slapping shigeru on the back. and like, does the entire second year class know about his extenuating circumstances?

he stares down at the joined tables and sinks his face into the scarf around his neck. “i’m gonna kill futakuchi.”

“then where would we get our free alcohol?”

the devil of the hour returns, slinging his arm around ennoshita’s shoulders. futakuchi winks suspiciously at shigeru as aone unloads the glasses from the trays. shigeru reaches for the cider he requested and tries not to think about how futakuchi is intending to ruin his life further.

shigeru quickly realises kyoutani really _isn’t_ much of a talker. he’s not like kenma who doesn’t converse if it gets too exhausting, but he’s also not frothing at the mouth to contribute. shigeru strangely adds it to his list of reasons why he’s attracted to the boy and mentally kicks himself in the ass because that is not what tonight is about.

the music on the speakers switches to some shitty electro-pop song he’s pretty sure came directly from the depths of oikawa’s music library. futakuchi straightens up, looking aone in the eye. “we’re dancing to this,” he says with no room for argument, grabbing the taller boy by the wrist.

as it turns out, ‘we’re dancing to this’ goes for everyone else at the table. bobata gives him another enthusiastic slap on the back before they leave him with kyoutani under the pretense of securing their space. shigeru is somewhat happy because this is the first time he’s been alone with kyoutani but he is also thrashing things around in his mind because _this_ _is the first time he’s been alone with kyoutani_.

shigeru feels content to stand here, converting oxygen to carbon dioxide, really he’s mastered that technique. however, he stops running his hand along his empty glass and looks up to catch kyoutani, arms and all, leaning on the table, staring at him for a change. it’s enough to make him kinda wanna cry and pass out at the same time.

“i,” he cuts himself, not knowing what he was even attempting to say. “sorry, you know. about um”

“sneezing on me?”

shigeru is going to die. “yeah, uh,” he pulls at his scarf, “that.”

kyoutani shrugs. “i’m over it.”

he nods, resigning himself to trace water droplets on his glass. for a moment, he wonders whether this was part of the set up or if it just conveniently turned out in his favour. kyoutani shuffles awkwardly and shigeru is struck by the thought that perhaps the other boy wants to dance rather than being obligated to stay with him. he tries telling himself this isn’t upsetting; it doesn’t work.

“you can go,” he hears kyoutani’s voice breaking his train of thought. shigeru must look as confused as he feels because kyoutani explains further. “dance. you can go dance.”

 _hang on._ “what?”

kyoutani’s brows furrow. “i mean, you probably want to dance with your friends, right?” he peers curiously at shigeru. “i just thought you don’t have to keep me company if that's what this is about.”

that definitely isn’t what this, whatever this even means, is about. this is about shigeru not being able to form cohesive sentences around kyoutani unless he is literally forced to interact with him by external factors. this is also a little about the fucking fingerless gloves. it’s always about those. he should ask about them one day.

shigeru blinks and swears rapidly in his head. he has yet to finish that goddamn powerpoint. “well,” he swallows, fixing his gaze on the dance floor as if he could hope to see a familiar face, “that would kind of be an asshole move and, despite popular belief, i am not that terrible.”

kyoutani snorts and shigeru swiftly brings his eyes back to the subject at hand. “good to know you don’t abandon the people you sneeze on.”

“i that was” shigeru puts his face in his hands. “no one will let me live it down.”

“honestly, who sneezes on someone at 4am?”

“oh _god_.”

the banter ends up being one sided but that’s fine, that’s fucking fantastic. he’s over the moon, and let it be known that kyoutani kentarou has such a nice voice. and he is speaking. to shigeru. they are actually having a conversation in which shigeru hasn’t embarrassed himself. seriously, this is a record for him.

kyoutani laughs a little at something shigeru says. he instantly forgets what it is he said in the first place. instead his focus remains on replaying that soft huff exactly two dozen times because there is no way, there’s just no physical way kyoutani can become more attractive to him. these kind of things should not be possible.

“aw, you two are getting along,” futakuchi reappears, leaning heavily on kyoutani. “i guess this means you’ve got three and a half friends now.”

shigeru covers his laugh with a cough. kyoutani shoves futakuchi into aone who catches him like he’s used to having people shove futakuchi at him at any given time. shigeru wouldn’t put it past him, futakuchi makes it a habit of pissing people off.

futakuchi rights himself unsteadily. “whatever,” he says. “we’re gonna get some more drinks and next time we’re all dancing.”

the others gradually show up before they can really pick up the ends of their conversation. and terushima has to tell them about the _absolute jackass with the weirdest fucking hat_ , but it’s okay, shigeru doesn’t mind. he smiles into his scarf when watari bumps his shoulder.

later as they’re ordering food at the mcshitty a block away, kyoutani brushes against shigeru and the way his skin prickles has nothing to do with the alcohol.

shigeru notices kyoutani a lot more after that.

or well, he notices kyoutani and actually approaches him. if he’s being truthful with himself, shigeru is always in a state of noticing kyoutani, looking for him, wishing he were there. terushima claims he’s got it bad. shigeru agrees with him.

he runs into kyoutani on the way to class on a tuesday. literally runs right into him because he’s late even though this is a 1pm class. kyoutani doesn’t even look shocked when he sees who it is and shigeru smiles apologetically.

thursday, he finds kyoutani sitting in the student lounge talking to watari since apparently he can’t stand half the guys in his own building. kyoutani scoots over and punches shigeru in the arm once he’s settled down, saying ‘that’s for tuesday’ with no further explanation. shigeru pretends he doesn’t see watari smirking at him.

the turning point happens that sunday while he’s getting a late dinner from the dining hall. he thanks the lady behind the array of dishes, doing a double take as his eyes skip over one of the other occupants in the room. shigeru comes face to face with a no longer blond kyoutani kentarou who, for all intents and purposes, seems to have made it his life’s mission to turn shigeru into a living, breathing mess.

for a minute, he considers texting watari ‘holy shit’ a minimum of five times, but it wouldn’t take a genius to figure out this was kyoutani related and he’d rather not have to go through more teasing than normal. he somewhat hates how most, if not all, of his personal problems revolve around kyoutani. he plans to have a talk with himself about this pressing issue.

shigeru grips his tray tightly and walks towards kyoutani, stopping when he’s in the other boy’s line of sight. kyoutani raises an eyebrow probably wondering why he hasn’t taken a seat, not privy to the effect he has on shigeru.

“your hair,” he blurts intelligently, setting his tray down.

kyoutani aimlessly fiddles with his chopsticks suddenly looking self-conscious, and shrugs to play it off. “hm, yeah,” he reaches for something on his plate. “i did it earlier. wanted to try this shade of brown y’know.”

shigeru nods and pulls out a chair, trying his best not to go off on how that was the best decision kyoutani’s ever made because shigeru is sincerely smitten. he sends a sarcastic ‘thanks for the memo’ skyward. would it really be too much to give a guy a fair warning?

he’s jolted from his mini tirade by kyoutani clearing his throat. “is it-” kyoutani fiddles with his chopsticks again. “you don’t think it’s bad, right?”

 _don’t read too much into this_. shigeru wants to ask why his opinion matters. kyoutani always seemed to carry himself with just enough confidence and never struck him as someone who was bothered by what other people had to say when it didn’t interest him.

he clearly hadn’t cared on thursday when terushima and ennoshita got into a debate about which movies were classics. ennoshita almost blew a blood vessel when terushima said he had the shittiest taste in films for someone majoring in cinematography. they’d chosen kyoutani as the unofficial moderator, not being able to trust shigeru or watari to stay impartial. the debate that resulted once kyoutani admitted to not having watched half those films had been much worse.

still, the fact is shigeru’s seen kyoutani brush off comments from the odd student about his demeanour or personality or any such trait that rubbed people the wrong way. so it’s a bit out of character for him to ask shigeru his take on something as simple as this. besides, he hadn’t gone and got a mohawk like yamamoto; it was hardly cause for concern.

“no, it’s…” shigeru trails off, searching for a word that won’t expose his feelings. “nice. looks good on you.” he stops himself before his cheeks can get warm.

“cool,” kyoutani says softly and shigeru rapidly changes the subject so he has no chance to zero in on the equally soft smile on kyoutani’s lips. he’ll have ample time for that later.

“hey,” kyoutani interjects when they've finished with their meals. “you should come hang out at my dorm if you’re not busy.”

there’s likely three assignments he’s putting off for a while longer but he barely hesitates. “does this mean i’m part of your elite friend club now?” he jokes and laughs at the shove he receives in response.

the walk to kyoutani’s dorm building is relatively short. shigeru fidgets upon coming to a stop to allow kyoutani to get his keycard. he definitely thinks he’s reading too much into this. the guy’s probably inviting him over because he spends a reasonable amount of time in shigeru’s dorm lounge. it would only be fair to have him over sometimes.

a first year student with god-awful bangs narrowly misses barrelling into them as they cross the threshold, loudly apologising and running out before the door even shuts behind them.

“fuckin’ first years,” kyoutani mutters.

“you were literally one of them last year.”

“please don’t remind me.”

they take the elevator up to the second floor and shigeru pokes fun at kyoutani to hide his nervousness. shigeru hums when the warmth of the lounge greets them, content at seeing it isn’t too crowded. he would hate to feel like he’s barging in on anyone’s space.

the lounge itself isn’t any different than the one shigeru is used to. same tv, same clock on the wall, same couches and loveseats with a few bean bags and folding chairs someone must have brought in. there’s a guy he recognises from his math class a couple semesters back though they’ve never had a reason to talk to each other. he sees kenma tapping away at his phone and notices akaashi reading through a novel all while two unfamiliar students loudly play some video game.

shigeru unconsciously touches his hair. he thought the first year’s haircut was tragic but quickly realises he was mistaken. kyoutani rolls his eyes when shigeru takes his phone out to snap a picture. he sends it off to oikawa knowing the third year boy will throw a fit.

“yahaba-san, nice to have you here,” akaashi says without looking up from his book. he adores akaashi’s ability to make anyone he acknowledges feel lucky.

“on that note,” kyoutani sighs, “why are you two still here? i was gone for almost three hours.” he pats the space next to him on the couch.

“yeah, well. unfortunately, daishou is as much of an asshole as he was three hours ago.” the boy glances back for a second. “dude, what’s with the hair?”

“it was like this when i left.”

“can’t say i’m a fan.”

“i’m not taking hair advice from _you_.”

the other boy sitting there pauses the game to see what the fuss is about. “whoa!” shigeru’s never heard anyone talk in caps but it’s safe to say that’s exactly what this guy is doing. no one seems to be surprised, so he’s guessing they’re all used to it. “that’s different. but kuroo’s got a point, you shoulda stuck with the blond.”

“koutarou, you’re being rude.”

“but i’m telling the truth!”

shigeru chuckles and thinks, _ah, so this is bokuto_. shigeru’s only heard of him in name alone. managing to get akaashi’s attention and also keep it was sort of legendary.

“yahaba, is it?” the first boy, kuroo, calls to him. “be real with your friend here. akaashi’s too polite to admit he doesn’t like it and kenma won’t care either way.”

kyoutani turns to face him like he isn’t already aware of what shigeru’s take on the matter is. like shigeru would magically change his mind about his hair (or kyoutani in general). he wishes it were that easy. he also wishes kyoutani would stop looking at him how he is now because shigeru has a hard time concentrating just being this close to him.

“i like it,” shigeru says as evenly as he can. “i mean, the blond was okay but this is better.”

shigeru knows he hasn’t said anything wrong or for that matter, anything to give himself away. but the way kyoutani stares at him is almost as if he’s being accused of a crime he has no recollection of committing. kuroo just tuts, bringing bokuto back to the game.

“really?” kyoutani’s voice has a hint of disbelief.

“why do you sound surprised?” shigeru asks. “i told you what i thought thirty minutes ago when i saw you.”

“but you could’ve been lying.”

“why would i lie about that?”

“because you probably think you need to spare my feelings.”

shigeru raises his eyebrows. “never considered your feelings before,” that’s a lie. “though, if you want me to compliment you, just ask.” he’d be more than happy to oblige on that part.

“shut up,” kyoutani elbows him then stands. he’s got that smile on his face again. it disappears before shigeru can process it. “be right back.”

he’s barely conscious of himself staring at kyoutani’s retreating figure until he spots akaashi watching him. a wave of embarrassment comes over him and he can already tell he’s blushing.

“he meets up with you often,” akaashi states simply.

“i suppose,” shigeru replies. akaashi’s expression stays the same yet shigeru thinks the other boy knows something he doesn’t. which is possibly the truest thing on planet earth since akaashi knows everything that has and will come to pass.

the sound of bokuto groaning in dismay distracts akaashi briefly. he blinks and the moment’s gone. akaashi brings his book back up and shigeru is still left certain he’s missed whatever akaashi had actually been saying.

personal problem #1 returns sans eyeliner wearing a well-worn pullover and sweats. he plops down into his previous position, only a smidge closer than he initially was. _i_ _like_ _this_ _too_ , shigeru thinks.

**kyoutani** _(1:17pm)_  
_where r u_

 **me** _(1:18pm)  
at the cafe._

 **me** _(1:18pm)_  
_why?_

 **kyoutani** _(1:21pm)_  
_nice get me a coffee_

 **me** _(1:23pm)_  
_hell no._

 **me** _(1:24pm)_  
_you can just walk here._

 **kyoutani** _(1:24pm)_  
_y do tht when ur already there_

 **me** _(1:25pm)_  
_guess you don’t need it then._

 **me** _(1:25pm)_  
_i’m leaving._

 **kyoutani** _(1:26pm)_  
_god ok pls.._

 **kyoutani** _(1:26pm)_  
_im sick_

 **kyoutani** _(1:27pm)_  
_happy now_

 **kyoutani** _(1:32pm)_  
_did u rlly not get it_

 **kyoutani** _(1:33pm)_  
_yahaba_

 **me** _(1:40pm)_  
_come let me in it’s freezing._

december is set apart from the rest of the calendar months. the world seems to move into hyperdrive. as if it can’t wait one more month, another thirty-one days. do that task you were meant to finish four months earlier. send that email that’s been sitting in the drafts folder. iron out those crucial details. quickly. swiftly.

on the other hand, there’s also the side that enjoys the slow motion. much like flipping through a photo book, fingers delicately passing over the rough memories, lingering by the sweet ones. what we did right. what we did wrong. what we didn’t do at all.

shigeru tends to favour the holiday season. likes to count down the days till he gets to see his family. he never feels as homesick as he does when december hits. maybe it’s because his mother starts calling more often and he can hear how much she misses him.

december means different things to shigeru. it means winter break and gift shopping and _holy fuck my professors really are out to get me_. it also means festive themed snacks and holiday specials on tv and for the first time, watching his best friend slowly fall over himself and fall in love.

it’s interesting to see watari’s composure shift whenever he’s around terushima. watari is a naturally bright person; terushima emphasises this. he laughs that much louder, smiles that much wider, and when terushima takes his hand one day, lacing their fingers together, he blushes that much harder. watari is a naturally bright person. terushima makes him brighter.

december means new things for shigeru. like having kyoutani tag along when futakuchi discovers another unknown restaurant across town. quiet moments, rare moments, where he stumbles upon kyoutani writing review notes in the library. days when his every intention is to just go to class, but he finds himself at kyoutani’s dorm.

today it’s the latter.

he has only been standing outside for three minutes, is reaching for his phone to send another message. the door opens and a few words come to mind once he sees kyoutani. he bites his lip and steps inside.

“you look like shit,” he chooses to say instead, giving the other boy a once over. “i kinda thought you were lying about being sick so i’d get your coffee. you really do are you not wearing shoes?”

kyoutani stares down at his socked feet and tilts his head. “didn’t notice,” he finally answers as they exit the elevator. “been in bed all day.” he pushes at his room door, immediately shuffling over to his bed.

shigeru closes the door gently. “and you wanted coffee?” this isn’t the first time he’s been to kyoutani’s room. although, it is the first time he’s seeing it so untidy. he tries to clear a space on kyoutani’s desk to rest the cup holder.

“hm? oh. yeah,” kyoutani sinks into the six or so blankets he’s created a nest out of. “gotta catch up on all the shit i’m missing.”

“off to a good start.”

“just gimme the coffee.”

“get it yourself.”

“i’ll sneeze on you.”

shigeru almost chokes on his laugh because wouldn’t that be a story to tell? he removes the cup and waits for kyoutani to sit up against the pillows before handing it over. kyoutani’s nose scrunches up at the taste, glaring at shigeru. the look is muted by his messy hair and red nose.

“this isn’t coffee,” kyoutani sniffles.

“no, that was my green tea,” shigeru says, “you looked like you could use it.”

kyoutani nods, drinking deeply then placing the drink on his bedside table. “c’mere.”

“are you planning to sneeze on me?” he asks warily.

“no,” a sneeze. “fuck. just c’mere.”

shigeru approaches and his eyebrows shoot upwards when kyoutani holds back the layers while moving aside on the bed. he doesn’t question it as he kicks his shoes off. if the boy you like invites you to his bed (not in that way), you find it a little hard to turn him down.

the blankets rest on shigeru’s lap and like, he really shouldn’t be here. he has a class to get to soon. but kyoutani leans against him and it’s well… it makes shigeru think his heart might beat right out of his chest.

“good,” kyoutani murmurs, and the heat of his skin sets shigeru’s own on fire. kyoutani looks at him. he thinks the other boy might be blushing. he can’t tell because he’s too busy willing himself not to blush. “this is okay, right?”

shigeru kinda wants to kiss kyoutani. he kinda wants kyoutani to kiss him. he doesn’t know if kyoutani would appreciate that. or maybe he would, shigeru can’t be sure. but kyoutani is looking at shigeru (he wonders when the roles reversed) and the urge to kiss him is bubbling up.

“i should go,” it comes out sounding breathless. “i’ve got class.”

“okay,” kyoutani says with a small nod. he leans away, eyes on the ceiling.

shigeru grabs his shoes. his throat feels tight, his emotions dangerously close to spilling out. the whole moment has put him off kilter; he’s never seen kyoutani flustered, never had to deal with him being the least bit touchy. shigeru thinks that this might change things.

“you gonna come back?” he hears, hand on the doorknob.

“do you want me to?” shigeru’s fist clenches.

there’s a short pause. “yeah,” some shuffling. “i do.”

“then, i’ll be back,” and he opens the door. shigeru takes a breath to calm down. his heart hasn’t slowed its erratic beating which isn’t surprising. what surprises him is the newfound hope that’s settled amid one beat and the next.

( _“this is okay, right?”_ )

shigeru continues to fall over and over again.

so, there are these moments shigeru has. they’re sporadic, but they’re still moments. they still happen. so, shigeru has these moments. where he locates a mental crawl space in the recesses of his brain and curls up there, nice and cozy. where he does too many things at once, then not enough, and he loses track of time because he’s stuck in his head.

shigeru has these moments. and usually, they don’t last too long. watari keeps an eye on him, like it’s an unspoken rule reserved for shigeru’s moments. he keeps an eye out for the switch. he seems to pick it up before shigeru himself understands what’s happening. there are just moments shigeru has and they’re usually here and gone before his best friend can get too worried.

once he gets himself out of the crawl space, shigeru can’t quite remember what happened (it’s mostly fragments). he can’t remember how much time he’s spent there. watari tends to fill him in. but it’s like his mind has to play catch up after it’s been in hiding. it’s fucking exhausting and shigeru hates it.

he has these moments. where he’s there but not really all there. he knows other people must notice it too.

today, it happens out of the blue after months of nothing. watari frowns in anticipation.

“shigeru?” terushima calls for what has to be the fifth time. his face swims into view and shigeru takes in the scene around them. they’re in terushima’s room, however he can’t recall walking here.

“are you okay?” he’s not sure who talks this time.

shigeru nods, or he thinks he does. “i’m tired,” he says. and he is. he’s always tired in these moments. he can feel it in his bones. shigeru tries to keep his focus on something in the room, to keep himself afloat for a minute more. the fatigue is overwhelming, demands his undivided attention.

despite how tired he declares to be, shigeru is pretty sure he doesn’t ever actually sleep. as if the parts of his mind running at top speed refuse to come to a standstill. when shigeru resurfaces, he’s still in that state of being half there. he moves his hands just to ensure they’re still attached. the walls of his own dorm room stare back at him. his fingers grasp fabric.

the next time he resurfaces, really resurfaces, he’s lying face down in bed. shigeru blinks and brings a hand up to rub at his face. sitting up sends pins and needles along his limbs. the exhaustion weighs shigeru down and there’s a light on somewhere that’s giving him a headache.

he will dismiss any claim that mentions the scream that escapes at the sight of a figure bent over his desk.

(see, shigeru has these moments. they’re sporadic. they don’t last too long. they’re incredibly unpleasant. but shigeru has his moments, and someone is always waiting at the end of them.)

the noise he makes causes kyoutani (because of course it’s him) to sit up abruptly, knocking his head against shigeru’s desk lamp. a litany of curses springs forth and shigeru would be amused if he weren’t so frightened.

kyoutani turns around with bleary eyes, kneading at the spot on his head. shigeru sits with wide eyes expecting an explanation. kyoutani merely yawns in return.

“were you sleeping?” shigeru glances at his digital clock. “it’s why are you here at 1am!”

kyoutani manages a small look of shock. “it’s 1am?”

“not the point,” shigeru says firmly. “how’d you even get in here?”

the look on the other boy’s face morphs into confusion. “you let me in.”

“oh,” shigeru has no memory of doing that. not like he can confirm that he’s been in his room the whole time he was _gone_. “what day is it?”

“friday now,” he narrows his eyes at shigeru. “are you okay?”

that’s the million dollar question, isn’t it? watari normally won’t ask based on the fact that he knows the answer. uneasiness remains a default feature as shigeru assesses the amount of time he’s lost. admittedly, it’s only been a few hours this time. he’s spent days away at most.

kyoutani is still waiting for an answer though. he could very well lie, reassuring lies so as not to worry kyoutani. because shigeru is used to reading outright concern.

he decides to go with the truth this time around. “i don’t know,” shigeru releases a heavy sigh. “i still have no idea what you’re doing in my room.”

“i fell asleep.”

“i can see that. why were you here in the first place?”

kyoutani scratches his cheek. “you weren’t answering my texts,” he replies, eyes fixed anywhere but on the boy in front of him. “watari said you were sleeping. which was weird because you said you were gonna meet me at the humanities building.” he peeks at shigeru and clears his throat. “anyway, i came to check on you after an hour. it was you but it also.. wasn’t.”

it’s obvious kyoutani wants to ask but shigeru shakes his head. it isn’t his favourite subject for clear cut reasons.

“then,” shigeru speaks after a minute of silence, “why are you still here?”

at this, kyoutani blushes. shigeru wishes he could capture it on film. “guess i wanted to make sure you were all right.”

he can hardly keep the smile at bay. kyoutani has the gall to look both embarrassed and, dare he say it, cute. “thanks.”

“right,” shigeru does laugh when kyoutani stands without warning and knocks the chair over. “i’ll be going.”

“going where?” shigeru arches an eyebrow.

kyoutani gives him a _where_ _else_ kind of look. “back to my dorm.”

“it’s 1am…”

“and?”

“it’s probably below 10 out there.”

“i’ll live.”

this could go on for another half hour so shigeru adjusts himself on the bed, patting the now vacated spot. the sense of déjà vu is quite honestly, dizzying. his heartbeat seems to fill the room.

shigeru is expecting the surprise; the apprehension not so much. shigeru looks at kyoutani, really _looks_ at him stood in the middle of his room. shigeru looks at the other boy  he’s never stopped  and sees that same hope he felt a few days prior reflected as plain as day. he considers not swallowing his feelings given the opportunity.

“i don’t think”

“shut up and get in the bed. we’re both tired.”

shigeru is finally seeing kyoutani after the weeks of looking his fill. funny how he missed the signs. shigeru grins as kyoutani pulls the covers over them, rolling on his side to face him.

leaning into kyoutani’s space, he thinks. it’s his turn to take a leap. their legs get tangled and shigeru’s hand reaches for kyoutani’s own. “good,” shigeru breathes into the shared air. he lets his other hand rest lightly against kyoutani’s cheek. “this is good.”

when kyoutani smiles, soft around the edges, shigeru starts believing that this smile had been solely for him the whole time. sometimes, the boy you like invites you to his bed (not in that way) and you discover things are okay.

“we’re free!” futakuchi yells as they exit the dorm building on the last official day of exams.

“your finals ended two days ago,” aone says matter-of-factly. he stares at futakuchi like he can’t understand why he puts up with him, yet he has not regretted doing so.

futakuchi grins, arms spread wide. “yeah, but now we won’t have to see that ugly dorm every day.”

“you _don’t_ see it every day,” terushima huffs, breath forming a cloud in front of his face. “you don’t live here.”

“and we’re coming back next year,” watari points out.

shigeru rolls his eyes, listening to futakuchi get into it about not ruining the mood before aone smoothly tells him to stop talking. he stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat and retrieves his phone to type a swift message.

 **me** _(3:42pm)_  
_we’re on our way._

 **ken** _(3:43pm)_  
_ok im almost done packing_

come monday, they’ll all be at home with their parents. the dorms are slowly being cleared out, except for those staying back. there’s at least five parties set to be hosted by undergraduates tonight. oikawa even convinced iwaizumi to throw one. in two weeks, they’ll be back but no one thinks about that right now, it’s winter break.

the winter break is almost always accompanied by some form of holiday spirit. it is present in the buildings covered with fairy lights and wreaths. on the passing faces of ecstatic students waiting to get off campus. in the way futakuchi walks beside shigeru and _so is_ _this a group date?_

shigeru feints punching him and futakuchi cackles. he hasn’t let up on teasing either of them since he cannot believe his matchmaking efforts worked. shigeru loudly tells him that they didn’t to which he only ever gets a ‘you’re welcome’ in response.

(“you really asked futakuchi to set us up?”

“...what had happened was”)

they arrive at kyoutani’s dorm, all smiles and plans about meeting up for the new year. the door to the ground floor is being held open by bokuto, arm wrapped around akaashi, while he calls to someone indoors.

“come on man, can you move any slower?” bokuto shouts. although, who actually knows granted bokuto is never speaking at a regular volume.

kuroo steps out, kenma clutching to the back of his jacket with one hand. “try me next time you spend an hour fixing your hair.”

“at least i can do something to mine.”

“okay, listen”

kenma pulls on kuroo’s jacket garnering his attention. “argue later,” kenma says. “we're gonna be late.”

akaashi nods at them as they walk inside. a few of the first year students are running along the hallways wreaking havoc. terushima has to avoid being knocked aside by two abnormally tall boys who are too engaged in talking to look where they’re going.

terushima grumbles about first years and their goddamn growth spurts all the way to the lounge. futakuchi immediately drops to the foot of one of the loveseats, dragging aone with him. “we’ll wait here while you get kyoutani,” he says, saccharine-sweet. “try not to get sidetracked but make it quick if you do!”

he hears watari snort. shigeru turns, hiding his blush, and moves down the corridor to kyoutani’s room. he raps on the door and smiles widely when kyoutani opens it. there are some clothes folded on the bed behind him.

“still packing?” he inquires as he enters the room. “is this gonna take long because the others are waiting.”

kyoutani goes over to his closet without responding. shigeru follows him and sees kyoutani picking up a small bag. he holds it out to shigeru causing him to furrow his brows.

“this isn’t a christmas gift, right?” he says, taking the bag in his hands. “you didn’t tell me when it was your birthday and i thought we weren’t doing presents.”

“we’re not,” kyoutani sounds exasperated though he’s smiling all the same. “open it.”

shigeru does as he’s told, pausing once he sees what’s in it. a laugh bubbles out of his chest. “you did _not_ seriously buy me fingerless gloves.”

the other boy frowns. “what’s wrong with them?” and shigeru laughs harder.

“they are the most useless gloves in human history,” shigeru titters. “their mere existence upsets me. especially when you wear them. but like, mostly because you look really good with them. and that upsets me. because they’re fucking useless.”

kyoutani blinks. “how long have you been holding that in?”

“a while.”

“i like fingerless gloves.”

“ _why?_ ”

“they’re cool as shit.”

“what the hell?” shigeru sighs, smile back in place as he slips his hands into the gloves, tossing the bag into the trash can. “did you buy these so i’d stop putting my hands in your back pockets?”

a grin tugs on kyoutani’s lips. “i pray to god you never stop doing that.”

shigeru feels his cheeks warm; kyoutani still has that effect on him. “while we’re on this frustrating topic, i have to ask,” he watches as kyoutani throws his jacket on. “do you have a tattoo?”

“what?” comes the choked reply.

his cheeks heat some more. “a tattoo. do you have one?”

the grin widens. “i do.”

 _oh._ “where?”

“i could show you later.”

shigeru’s mouth goes dry and kyoutani steps forward, reaching for him. shigeru meets kyoutani half-way in a kiss. he really doesn’t think he can ever get tired of this any time soon. it’s exciting and relaxing, which aptly describes his entire experience with kyoutani. shigeru hopes it always feels that way.

“i told you to be quick,” they break apart to find futakuchi standing in the doorway. “you were so eager you couldn’t shut the door?”

“do you ever, y’know, quit being an ass?” kyoutani glares, pushing futakuchi out and joining the other boy. he takes shigeru’s hand once he’s closed the door.

“i’ve known him for a year, the answer is no.”

terushima makes a big show of how they were going to ditch shigeru and kyoutani if they didn’t turn up. watari shushes him with a soft _yuuji_ , shaking his head. futakuchi grasps aone’s arm, taking the lead downstairs and further to what he has pronounced the best restaurant in tokyo after months of trial and error.

shigeru uses the cold as an excuse to huddle closer to kyoutani when they’re out on the street. he stares at kyoutani, admiring the curve of his jaw, the hair he’s not completely used to and the eyeliner that’s more or less a staple.

he stares at kyoutani and this time, he catches kyoutani looking right back.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm so sorry this is so long and i sincerely apologise for my overuse of italics.
> 
> also @ myself: wth sis you haven't written a fic since 2015 so why now?


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